Unprepared

I’ve been thinking about murder. It was fiction, based on news stories and historical accounts of true murders.

I’ve been crafting scenes and realizing characters, and defining arcs. I’ve been immersing myself in these fiction details. It was enjoyable. It was about the writing, the story telling, the characters, and the richness I felt in finding them all in that one beautiful little chapter.

But today it seems odd, even wrong, to write about violence after such a violent week. Besides America’s gun violence, besides Dallas, besides WaPo’s feature that shows 509 Americans killed by Police this year to date, besides the bombing in Iraq that killed 300, besides these and the anti-Semitic, anti-sanity, anti-progress utterings of Donald Trump, GOP candidate for POTUS, besides the ongoing refugee crises from the ongoing wars and fighting, and the animal abuses and murders….

Well, besides these things, and climate change and the hottest June on record and the smallest Arctic ice on record…besides these things….

I write to entertain myself. The entertainment comes from trying to understand events and people. In my murder mysteries, I attempt to understand how one person comes to decide to kill another and the course of thinking investigators follow to discover who did it and why. In my science fiction, I attempt to bridge technological advances with the impact on societies and individuals, and strive to understand how they cope with the challenges of change, of being on other worlds and traveling through space in another world, the one of the starship.

But the real world is intruding today. Dallas is intruding. I don’t want to write about murder.

This becomes a test. I have my coffee, my goals, and my intentions. I’m here to write. Writing is meditative, a chance to escape the world’s trials and errors and the personal frustrations of living. But the building momentum of what’s been going on, the world’s escalating violence and, sadly, what seems like rising selfishness and hatred, is crashing over me and taking me down.

Now I offer another but. Everything is a spectrum for me. This post is on a spectrum of personal and private thoughts and efforts to understand the world and myself. On the private scale, it gets close to the bone, probably a seven on a 1-10 scale. If I’m ever at ten, I’m emotionally and intellectually naked and truthful. There have been searing moments when I’ve been a ten with myself. It’s ugly and beautiful.

So now, the but, writing this post helps me understand my perspective and permits me to vent. It isn’t deep nor gravely insightful or profound, but still, it’s a release. That’s what’s happened by sitting and writing out my thoughts. Now I can take a deep breath, pivot myself, open a file, and write like crazy.

Just give me a few more minutes, and I’ll willing to try.

I Can’t / I Can

Meditating and calming is hard today. My heart is with Dallas. My heart is with the people the police killed. My heart is with the officers and family killed by snipers.

I can’t digest the reasons a traffic stop ends in death. “I have a gun. I’m permitted to carry it.” Four shots later, dead. Some witnesses say the shots were fired before the officer finished saying. It’s contested. John Scalzi writes what I think. I can’t imagine, I can imagine, I can remember moments when an officer confronted me, but I never thought about being shot and killed. I’m white and male. It’s a different world for me.

Police are called to a convenience store. A black man is outside. Police arrive, confront him, taser him, wrestle him to the crowd. They see a gun. Bang. The narrative is contested. No one is agreeing about what happened, about what videos showed, about who remembers what.

Black people are being killed for broken tail lights. Shot in the back eight times while running away. Because they’re a threat.

Protests break out. Trials, investigations, inquiries are conducted and almost every time, from small black child with a toy gun to people tasered and on the ground, the results return, “It was justified.” The officer feared…. The officer followed proper procedures….

So, who is surprised? Someone else says, “I’m fucking tired of this. I’m fighting back. I’m taking it to them. See how they like it when they’re shot and killed without provocation, because they’re not the ones who did anything, but the system is rigged and has provoked me to this response.” And they get up there and start shooting at officers.

How many trigger words are in those sentences I wrote that people would contest? Many, many. We ‘know’ more violence isn’t the answer but we ‘know’ that nothing has been changed to protect people from being shot and killed by a good guy, bad guy, or police officer, with a gun. We know fear is rising. Imagine being a police officer right now. Imagine being a black person. Imagine being in Dallas when the shots are fired. Imagine being in a car and reaching for your wallet when shots are fired.

There will be responses. There will be posts like this. There will be prayers and pious statements that our hearts are with the victims, whether they’re officers or citizens, of this rising streak of violent death by guns, as I wrote in my first paragraph, as I, weary of these dire headlines and violence, struggle to understand. The NRA will remain silent. They’ve learned not to speak out at these moments. Bad PR. Others will make foolish statements. Some will challenge and mock, “See, those fucking police officers were good guys with guns.”

Yeah.

Reading the officers’ accounts of going into Orlando after that mass shooting – how many days ago? –  they tell of the darkness and uncertainty in the club, of going through carefully to find the shooter. Add some good guys with guns shooting at what they think is the bad gun with a gun into that charged environment of darkness and uncertainty.

But we know the future. There will be protests. Marches. Calls for change. Petitions. Blog posts. Prayers. Statements. Maybe sit-ins. Gun sales will rise again.

We know the future. Just look to the past. You don’t need to travel far.

Just travel to June.

 

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